


Pray For Us Sinners

by angelboygabriel



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Alternate Scene, Churches, Frottage, M/M, allusions to internal and external homophobia, hurt-comfort, post Breaking Point, very mild angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-06
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2019-04-19 02:29:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14227134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelboygabriel/pseuds/angelboygabriel
Summary: "Hell, it was you, First Sergeant. Ever since Winters made Battalion, you've been the leader of Easy Company. Oh, and you're not going to be First Sergeant much longer, First Sergeant." Speirs commented with a proud sort of air.





	Pray For Us Sinners

**Author's Note:**

> So, this has been a wip for nearly three months. Enjoy. 
> 
> Based purely on actor portrayals. No disrespect for the real soldiers intended.

 

Carwood Lipton would like to think he is a good man.

The men of his company would certainly have him believe so, with strong loyalties towards him and motherly jokes made at his expense. He was protective of them all, as many are in war, but there was one man in particular that made Carwood’s beliefs about himself waver.

Captain Ronald Speirs.

Speirs was a terrifyingly handsome and fearless man, seemingly bound to this planet not by any singular thing apart from his dedication to the men. There were whispers, rumors about him, almost none of them good- that he had killed twenty P. O. W.s that he could beat a man to death with his fists, and other things, more taboo things, that made Carwood turn red when he heard them mumbled amongst certain men.

The last one was the source of Carwood’s doubt about himself, because somewhere along the line of gunfire and adrenaline and pointed looks and talking, the two had become friends. And Lipton had developed feelings for the man.

This was a problem for many reasons, the main one being that it was wrong for a man to love another man. Even overlooking that, Speirs was his senior officer and pursuing a relationship with him could get him dishonorably discharged, jailed, or worse. Carwood feared what would happen if his comrades were to ever find out or even suspect he was queer. Although the Nazis were doing a bang-up job of killing off anyone remotely different, America wasn't too much better on the queer front.

While these thoughts had percolated around his mind constantly as of late, experiencing Bastogne was the epitome of an all-encompassing hell, and the grief from it was the forefront of his thinking. Each man no longer with them carried a part of him, and even though they had won, they had lost. They had lost a terrible amount.

Depression fell on the shoulders of each soldier like a blanket as they were brought to some faceless French town to recover for the night, a large church in the town’s center welcoming those remaining. Carwood jumped off the truck and watched as the men, his friends, _his family_ walked into that church, speaking lowly and huddled together. He felt empty and cold as they shuffled in, seeking warmth. They never seemed to be able to beat the chill.

George Luz turned to him, a hand on his arm and a look on his face that asked clearly, Are you coming in?

Lipton shook his head and George patted his arm as he turned away, trudging through the mud and into the midst of the dormant town. There was a second church near the edge of the town, smaller, and Carwood found himself going in. A single candlebra was lit, throwing shadows across the wall as well as on to Ronald Speirs, the only other man in the church.

Lipton eyed him as he discreetly took a seat in the front pew, watching as a few strands of matted hair fell over the captain’s face. Dirt was smeared under his eyes, and they focused with unblinking intent at the stained glass window from his bowed angle. He looked weary and too old for his body.

“Lipton.” he spoke, the name seemingly hanging from the rafters as Carwood sat down.

"Captain Speirs." Lip responded, and Speirs' mouth quirked as he turned to look at him.

"Ron will do just fine." he replied with a boyish grin and Carwood couldn't help but shoot one back. Speirs- Ron- came over to sit next him.

Lip observed him as Ron continued to gaze at the window, until Ron shook his head and faced Lip's look. "Are you thinking about the stories the men tell about me? I know it's something they get into a tizzy over. I see the way they look at me, you don't have to look like that too." he said and Carwood felt himself flush.

"Sir? The men aren't really concerned about the stories. I- They're just glad to have you as our CO. They're happy to have a good leader again." Lip responded.

"Well, from what I've heard, they've always had one. I've been told there's always been one man they could count on. Led them into the Bois Jacques, held them together when they had the crap shelled out of them in the woods. Every day, he kept their spirits up, kept the men focused, gave 'em direction... all the things a good combat leader does."

Ron paused a beat to half-scowl at Lip. "You don't have any idea who I'm talking about, do you?" he said bemusedly.

Lip raked his brains. Nixon wasn't combat, Winters had been moved to a higher ranking, and Harry hadn't exactly been the strategist of the company. "No, sir." he replied, and Ron slowly began to smile.

"Hell, it was you, First Sergeant. Ever since Winters made Battalion, you've been the leader of Easy Company. Oh, and you're not going to be First Sergeant much longer, First Sergeant." Speirs commented with a proud sort of air.

"Sir?"

"Winters put you in for a battlefield commission, and Sink approved on your behalf. I might have sent in a few nice words but you'd not know. You should get the official notice in a few days. Congratulations, Lieutenant." Ron told him genuinely and Carwood felt warmth flood his body.

"Thank you, sir." he said honestly, and looked down with shock as Ron grabbed his hands.

"You deserve it." he said seriously.

Lip had nothing to say in return, and Ron didn't take his hands back.

It was a calm, peaceful moment and the candlelight flickered jovially over their features as they stared at each other, and Carwood felt the overwhelming urge to kiss the Captain. As his mother always said, you won't know unless you ask. If he was regarded with disgust, he could easily write it off as exhaustion.

"Sir, would it- may I kiss you?" Lipton blurted out, and Ron's eyebrows shot up. He was about to backtrack and retract his statement, until Ron laughed. He genuinely laughed.

"You may." he said gently, and Carwood gave him a quick peck. Speirs rolled his eyes fondly at the chastity of it and cupped Carwood's face, bending in for a longer kiss. His tongue experimentally slid between their lips, and Carwood gave a surprised sound before tentatively opening his mouth, the two of them kissing more deeply.

In this room, Carwood was reminded of the sound of choir voices echoing from the eaves, but here, the only audible sound was the quiet and slightly messy sound of kissing.

When they broke apart, Lipton opened his eyes to see Ron smiling at him, patting Carwood's knee before licking his lips.

"Lean back." Ron commanded, raising both hands to set them on Lip's sides, and he obediently reclined on the wooden pews as Ron ran his hands across his ribs, before pulling at his collar. He frowned when it did not unbutton easily, and he jerked the first buttons completely off and it dropped to the floor. The two others he wanted open undid far quicker, and when the top of Carwood's chest was exposed to the captain, he trailed reverent, sure fingers over it.

Speirs' touch was every bit as commanding as the man himself. Lipton dragged Ron on top as a hand curled over his bare shoulder, and Lipton cautiously grabbed his hips. Ron gave a heady laugh as he ducked back down to kiss Carwood again, this time with heavy friction of canvas fabric and legs between them.

Carwood let his mouth get kissed open, deep and forceful as he groaned and grabbed a handful of Ron's hair. He shifted and started to move against Speirs, and he could feel the smile against his lips and tongue.

They pressed their legs together tightly, Lip-Ron-Lip-Ron and rutted sloppily against each other, one of Ron's hands grabbing the edge of the pew. They stopped kissing and Ron grit his teeth, forehead dropping against Carwood's exposed collar. Their heavy breathing filled the church, and Lip haphazardly tossed one leg over Ron's waist.

"Ah, fuck." Speirs hissed as they ground against each other, feeling unbearably hot and dirty. They kissed, chaste, before Lipton made an unnameable sound and gave a full body jerk, swearing as he knocked his head against the wood of the pew.

Ron laughed at the absurdity of his well put together officer swearing for once in his life, writhing and panting as he came in his pants below him, and that thought alone turned his laugh into a half snarl as his own orgasm felt like it burned through his stomach.

They both fell limp and Ron felt uncomfortable at the new wetness in his skivvies. The continued flickering of the candlelight made the captain feel drowsy, and Lipton's breathing had already slowed.

"Should we clean up, Ron?" Carwood finally asked after many long, long minutes, and Speirs sighed.

"I suppose so." he answered sometime later, begrudgingly picking himself off of Lipton and getting a sewing kit out of his uniform pocket, threading a needle before procuring a button to Lip's momentary confusion.

Ron was very serious as he gripped Carwood's shoulder, the other hand deftly starting to sew the button back on.

"Was this a one time thing, first sergeant?" he asked, voice even.

Lipton watched where he pulled the needle through, thinking before he spoke.

"No. With your permission, sir, it was... it _is_ not." he answered and a sparse grin pulled at his face. Speirs stepped back with a satisfied air and looked down at him, already put back together in his leading aura.

"Good. You will be rooming with me in the next town, in that case, and I will have a chance to fuck you _properly_." he said and Lipton's mouth parted as Speirs turned on his heel and left without another word.

  
Carwood Lipton would like to think that maybe he's a little bit infatuated.

 


End file.
